


Hold Onto

by pastelfalcon



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Searching for Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelfalcon/pseuds/pastelfalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But somewhere along the way they got tangled up in each other, too, and Sam thinks that’s enough for now to keep them going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Onto

They look for Bucky.

They look for the Winter Soldier, but mostly they look for Bucky, the childhood pal Steve mumbles about over breakfast when he recounts his dreams and mentions frequently when he’s spinning tales over dinner with rueful smiles and eyes that won’t hold Sam’s for more than a few seconds. For all they know they’ll never find Bucky even when they do find the Winter Soldier, but Steve’s not ready to talk about that and Sam knows not to push him.

Sometimes a man needs something to hold onto.

It’s been fourteen months and at best they’re tasting Bucky’s dust, at worst they’re chasing shadows across the world and getting tangled up in them.

But somewhere along the way they got tangled up in each other, too, and Sam thinks that’s enough for now to keep them going without losing Steve to those glossy-eyed recollections and possibly very, very false hope.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” Steve says over bacon and eggs, a classic Sam goes back to when they’re in the States for a day or two again. “I mean it.”

“What can I say? Just call me Samwise.”

“I mean it,” Steve repeats firmly, putting down his fork, “You’re…” he flounders helplessly for a moment, so Sam kills the burner and comes to sit at the table, tucking a hand over Steve’s beside his plate. “Yeah, that,” Steve mumbles, flushed and grinning. “You’re that.”

“You’re all that too,” Sam says with a laugh, nudging Steve’s boot-clad foot beneath the table with his own.

“And a bag of chips?” Steve suggests helpfully.

Sam bites his bottom lip to hold back some of his wide-stretched smile, eyes bright with amusement. “Man, we gotta get you off those 90s flicks. It’s time to move on.”

Steve sobers abruptly, dropping Sam’s gaze to stare hard at his plate, throat muscles flexing unconsciously. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Whoa, now, Cap,” Sam says quickly, gripping Steve’s hand until his lover looks at him again, “Nobody said anything about giving up on Bucky.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Sam. I’m a little… overloaded right now.”

Sam lifts his free hand to grab Steve’s discarded fork, stabbing at the fluffy tumble of his scrambled eggs and offering the bite to Steve, who laughs even if it’s a little strained. He opens his mouth, smiling helplessly as Sam feeds him.

“Gotta keep fed if you’re gonna carry all that weight on your shoulders, soldier,” Sam murmurs.

Steve shifts his hand, nudging his fingers in between Sam’s until they’re holding each other properly. “I got somebody ready to catch me if it gets too heavy,” Steve says quietly, watching the way Sam finagles a piece of bacon along with eggs onto the fork for his next bite.

“Assuming he’s not already at your back, holding some of it up,” Sam replies lightly, offering up a smile when Steve’s teeth clack accidentally against the fork.

“Yeah, assuming,” Steve agrees, licking the corner of his mouth. “God, Sam, just kiss me already.”

“I’m on it,” Sam says seriously, standing up from his chair while Steve does the same, plates clattering as they strain over the table to get their hands on each other’s faces and necks, hauling close for a kiss that tastes like Sam’s bacon and Steve’s grasp on tendrils of hope.

They look for Bucky, but they’ve got each other to hold onto.


End file.
